The rise of Eclipse
by Fuzzbug
Summary: A young girl is found wondering the streets of Gotham, a young girl whose skills with a sword are incredable. Who is she? Where did she come from? Meanwhile the Joker is once again planning to drive commissioner Gordon insane with an even deadlier scheme.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The young five-year-old stared in awe as her daddy gently laid the gleaming silver sword into her hands. The metal glinted in the afternoon son, and she could see her face reflected in the blade.

"This is for you," her father began. "It's a light-weight sword that I made myself; that means it will be easier for you to handle. I'm going to teach you how to use it, just like Master Wong taught how to use mine all those years ago."

The girl's eyes shone with mirth, "you mean it Daddy? You really mean it?"

"Yes dear, but I want you to promise me that you will not use that sword unless I am with you, until you are ready to wield it alone I must always be by your side, got it?"

"Yes Daddy."

"That's my girl, come on I'll start by showing you the sword's layout."

He took the sword from his daughter and laid it on the ground, afterwards he beckoned her to come and sit beside him.

Her father pointed at the swords handle. "This part is known as the hilt, it consists of the guard, the grip and the pommel. The pommel is the counterweight on top of the handle. It provides a balance that is necessary to the wielder, making it easier to handle, understand?"

The little girl slowly nodded.

"This part," her father continued, pointing at the handle itself, "is called the grip..."

"Because you grip it?" His daughter guessed.

"That's right," he smiled at her. "We'll have you sword fighting in no time. The grip was usually made of wood or metal- this one's made of metal, and it was sometimes covered in shagreen leather or shark skin."

"What's shagreen?"

"It's a rough type of leather," he explained, made from a horse's back, or sometimes a wild ass, and typically died green."

The little girl nodded, "is this shagreen?"

"No this is rubber," her father explained, "it's more popular. But whatever material covered the grip; it is usually glued on and held with wire wrapped around it in a spiral shape."

"Ok, Daddy," the girl was trying hard to take in what her dad was explaining to her.

Finally he pointed at the last part of the handle. "This part is known as the guard, it protects your hands from the sword of your enemy, so that you don't get your hands injured. The guard didn't exist in older swords, and then it became just a straight crossbar. Now then, let's see if you've been listening. What's that part called? "

"The pommel," his daughter replied promptly.

"And what does it do?"

"It provides a balance," the young girl echoed her father's earlier words. "It makes it easier to handle, it's the c-c-counterweight."

"Well done," he pointed to another part of the weapon, "what's this known as?"

The girl grinned; she knew the answer to this one. "That's the grip; it's called that because you have to grip it."

"Excellent, and what was it usually made out of?"

The girl stared at her own sword. "Er, metal..."

"Right and…"

"Sorry Daddy, I can't remember."

"That's ok sweetheart; it's your first lesson. What's your rocking horse made out of?"

"Wood," she replied, slightly perplexed by this question. It suddenly dawned on her. "Oh, wood! The grips are sometimes made of wood!"

"Brilliant, your learning. Now then, what's this called?"

"That's the guard; it guards the person's hand from being cut by the other person's sword."

"Correct. Now tell me, did they have guards in older swords?"

"Yes-I mean no! No they didn't, but they did in later swords, it was called the crossbar-like in football."

Her father chuckled at his daughter's comparison. "Well done, ok, lesson number two. This part of the sword," he pointed the gleaming metal, "Is called the blade."

The little girl stared down at the sword blade and nodded, "yes Daddy."

"See that groove on the flat side of the blade? That's called the fuller. In the nineteenth century- before even you grandma was born, people called them "blood grooves", but it actually lightens the blade, rather than allowing the blood to flow from a wound, understand?"

"I think so Daddy," she wasn't so sure.

"Don't worry; you'll get it as time goes on. Anyway, this part of the sword is called the edge-I think it's easy to see why."

"Because it's the edge," the five-year-old-stated.

"Correct," he indicated another part of the blade that seemed to be joined to the fuller, "this part is the central ridge. It is sometimes the part used to inflict many defensive and offensive actions."

The little girl ran her fingers slowly along the central ridge. The blade was, understandably, extremely smooth.

"The last part of the blade section is this," he pointed at the tip of the sword, it's called the point."

"Yes, Daddy," she nodded her head in understanding. "What is it used for?"

"It's usually used for actions such as stabbing."

"Is it the most important part of the blade then, Daddy?"

Her father shook his head. "No, sweetheart, all parts of a sword are crucial because they each do an important job. Take the central ridge for example. Like I said, it's used for defensive actions as well as offensive. Imagine being in a sword fight where you can't defend yourself from getting hurt-or killed-from your enemy's sword, understand what I'm saying?"

"All parts of a sword are important, Daddy," his daughter answered. "You might need the sword to protect you as well as using it to hurt your enemy."

The man smiled at his young daughter's intelligence. She had inherited it from her mother. It was sad that she never got the chance to see that she had passed it on to their only child.

Once again her father tested her on naming the parts of the blade. Occasionally he would point to parts of the hilt, to see if she still remembered the names of those. He was glad to see that she hadn't forgotten.

"Ok, now you know the lay-out of a typical sword. Let's see how well you can use it, don't worry I'll help you this time. Afterwards, we'll see if you can do it yourself."

"Ok, Daddy," the little girl picked up her sword and followed her father. She carried the sword the same way she had often seen her dad carrying his, - with the blade pointing downwards.

She reached her dad, who was positioned next to an old tree stump. He pulled an apple from his pocket and placed it on the stump. "Let's see if you can chop this apple perfectly in half, I'll guide you the first few times."

He squatted down next to his daughter, and placed his hands on top of hers on the grip. Together they lifted the sword into the air and the man counted to three. Finally they brought the sword down, slicing it through the apple with ease.

"I did it!" The girl grinned in excitement, not really caring that her father had helped her.

"Well done," once again her dad congratulated his daughter's achievements. "Ok, let's do it again."

For the next ten or more times, he guided his daughter's hands. Occasionally the sword would miss the apple, but he reassured her that that happened to all beginners.

Finally he brought out the last apple. "I want to see if you can slice this one yourself." He placed it on the tree stump. "Don't worry I'll be watching you."

The girl stood in front of the tree stump, and lifted her sword. She stood there for a few seconds, to try and perfect her target.

Finally she brought the sword down. It whistled through the air, and sliced straight into the ripe fruit.

Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds then. Finally the apple split apart, equally in two. The five-year-old dropped her sword and jumped up and down in excitement. "I did it, Daddy! I did it!"

The man laughed at his daughters expected excitement. "Yes you did it, now let's see if you can do it again."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter one

7 years later

Crime alley lived up to its name. More muggings went on there than on any other street in Gotham.

Perhaps it's most famous mugging was that of renowned surgeon Dr Thomas Wayne and his wife Martha. To make it worse their deaths was witnessed by their young son Bruce Wayne.

However, out of their murder came a small amount of hope. Bruce Wayne vowed to avenge his parents, and worked his body and mind to the peak of physical condition. Finally, years later, he returned to the city as its most famous vigilante: Batman.

No one but a handful of people knew of his true identity, and every year on the anniversary of their death he would come to crime alley and lay two single roses on the spot where they died.

Tonight was no exception. He laid the two roses on the ground, against the wall. Later, after he had finished patrol, he would go to Gotham cemetery and lay two more roses at his parents' grave.

"Batman, they've had a break out at Arkham," a voice echoed in his ear piece.

"Who was it? And how did he or she get out?" Batman got straight to the point.

"It's the Joker; you'll have to talk to my father on how he got out though."

Great; he had a bad feeling that this night was about to get worse; a whole _lot _worse.

"I'll do that." With that Batman was swinging his way through the streets of Gotham, towards the police headquarters. The blood-red roses that he had left behind were the only sign that he had ever been crime alley that night.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Twelve-year-old Jessica Redman sat in the Gotham café, clutching a mug of hot chocolate. It was the cheap kind that left a funny taste in the back of her throat, but it was the only hot drink she could afford. She had spent her last money on transport to get here.

She ignored the stares of people who were probably wondering what a girl of her age was doing out alone at night. Some of the customer's eyes were attracted to the table where glinting in the light was a silver sword.

It was quite a thin sword and it didn't look to be that heavy. That wasn't surprising though; it belonged to a child after all. The grip of his was a brass color and had a Latin phrase engraved on it, though the customers were to far away to read what it said.

"Now what's a young girl like you doing out alone at night?" It was the waitress, coming over with another mug of hot chocolate; the more expensive kind.

"I didn't ask for-"

"I know you didn't but it looked like you could use another, sweetie. And this one's on the house."

"Thankyou," Jessica replied, taking the new mug and handing the old one back to the waitress.

"Now tell me, where are your folks?" The waitress smiled kindly at Jessica and sat down opposite her.

Jessica sighed. She didn't really want this lady-no matter how kind she was-to know about her family life. But one look told Jessica that she wasn't leaving without an answer.

"They're dead," Jessica began. "My mum died soon after I was born, and I lost my dad a few weeks ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have relatives here?"

"Yeah," Jessica didn't like lying to this kind lady but she didn't want people harassing her about what she was doing, and why she was alone at the same time. "I'm going to meet them at their apartment just across the park in a minute."

The waitress looked up the clock hung on the wall. It was quarter past eleven; much too late for a child of her age to be out alone in a city like Gotham. "Why don't you have them meet you here? It's a bit late for someone your age to out alone at night. I'll ring them if you like."

"Thanks for the offer but I'll be alright," and before the waitress could say another word she was up and out of the door, carrying her precious sword at her side.

"It's not the dark you have to worry about," the waitress whispered. "It's the things that come out of it."

She walked behind the counter and picked up the telephone. The young girl _may_ have been telling the truth about her relations, but she wasn't going to risk it. The waitress pressed the phone to her ear and dialed the Gotham police station.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Batman, having been joined by Robin, landed on the roof of the police station where Commissioner Gordon was waiting for them.

"I heard about the Joker."

Jim spun around slightly startled by the duo's sudden and silent appearance. Even after all these years he was still trying to get use the dark knight's silent stealth.

"You won't believe how he got out this time. According to a guard the Joker tore out a clump of his own hair and stuffed it in the lock."

"The way children sometimes stuff chewing gum in locks?" Robin asked.

The Commissioner nodded, "Just like that. And when a guard tried to stop him he knocked him out, before sticking pins in his eyes. Don't ask me where he got the pins from though."

"Ouch," Robin winced, "talk about 'stick a needle in your eye'."

Batman eyed his young partner dangerously.

"Sorry."

The dark knight wasn't actually surprised by the Joker's method of escape. He could handcuff the Joker's wrists and ankles, tie him up, wrap him in bandages, toss him a sack, put the sack in a box, and put that box in a bigger box before dropping it in the river, yet the Joker would _still _find a way to get out. It was just the way he was: insane, yet undeniably intelligent as well.

"What do you plan to do?" The commissioner wanted to know. "The last time this lunatic broke out he held an entire second grade class hostage, and killed ten of them including the teacher. I don't want something like that to happen again. The grandmother of one of the victims' lives across the street from me, and she's heartbroken."

"I'm not going to let something like that happen, Jim. But this is the Joker we're talking about, not the Riddler. He doesn't leave clues to his crimes. I hate to have to say this but we may have to wait until he strikes, or makes some sort of contact."

"We should look at the clump of hair," Robin suggested. "It may provide us with some sort of clue on what the Joker may be up to."

"How is a clump of his hair going to help?"

"Well he may have come into contact with something that might give us a clue on what he's planning, before he was apprehended and brought into Arkham."

"Do you think it will reveal anything?"

"We can't say for sure at this time," Batman began. "But at this point in time we have to look at every detail. Robin is correct when he says that the hair may provide a clue."

"Very well," the Commissioner agreed, "I'll go and get your hair now." He turned and retreated from the roof. A few minutes later he returned carrying the hair in an evidence bag which he handed to Batman.

"Thankyou," Batman gratefully took the bag. "I'll contact you if anything important comes up."

"You do-"

The duo had gone.

"That."

The commissioner sighed. Was there ever a time when he had actually watched Batman disappear into the night? No, he didn't think there was.

"Commissioner?" Detective Bullock appeared beside Jim. "Sorry to disturb you Commish' but police have just brought in a kid wandering the streets….carrying a sword."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

As usual when Batman returned to the Batcave, he got straight to work on trying to figure out what the Joker was planning.

"Do you have any idea what our giggling maniac is up to now, master Bruce?" his butler Alfred asked as he descended the stairs to the cave. He was carrying a mug of coffee for his boss, which he placed on the desk.

Bruce noted the drink but didn't make a move for it. Instead he carried on searching the computer screens for something, _anything_, which would help him.

"I had Robin study that clump of hair," he began, never taking his eyes of the screen.

"May I enquire if you were successful, sir?" Alfred stood beside Bruce and stared at the screen as well. A digital image which showed a strand of Emerald hair was currently rotating on the screen.

"I don't know yet Alfred, there was a substance found in the Joker's hair: Saccharose; more commonly known as Sucrose."

"Sugar, sir, but where would the Joker get sugar in his hair from?" Alfred asked.

"I think I know Alfred," Bruce replied, printing out a report of his analysis. "After the Joker murdered those second graders he escaped to his carnival. Something tells me that killing those children was just a distraction. He had something bigger planned, but before he was able to engage in the plan I apprehended him. Now he wants to finish what he started."

"And that is?"

"If I knew that Alfred, I'd be one step closer to solving this."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

For most people, children especially, funfairs were usually exciting places filled with laughter and thrills. The sound of the rider's screams of joy on the rollercoaster, the sticky finger's from the cotton candy, and the excited shivers from the riders of the ghost train.

But not this carnival.

The carnival currently standing in the middle of this abandoned field was more like a carnival of horror than a carnival of fun. Oh there were rides alright, but they hadn't been used in years. However tonight that had changed. The famous notes of the carousel seemed to float through the air, as the horses rode on their constant spherical path.

There was only one rider on the ride. A man whose skin bared the hue of white chalk. His hair was a bright emerald green, but the most striking and _horrifying _thing about him was his smile. It seemed to be permanently carved to his face.

The whole appearance gave him the look of a nightmare clown. His name sent shivers down the spines of all those who heard it, he was the reason the people of Gotham locked their doors at night.

The Joker, first and foremost villain of the dark knight.

The Joker held a newspaper in his hands and was reading an article on his previous apprehending by his archenemy.

"Stupid Bat freak, ruining my fun," the Joker put on a mock pout, but this was instantly replaced by his 'normal' grin. "Oh, but all is not lost, I can still have my fun though."

The psychopath turned the page to be confronted by a picture of Commisioner Gordon, taken after the events of the Joker's last escape.

The Joker's grin-if possible-became even wider. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, I failed once in my attempt to drive you insane, but you know what they say: "try, try, and try again." And have I got a game for you, Commisioner! It'll blow your mind-literally, and knock your socks off! Speaking of which, memo to self: buy more socks. I wonder where Batman gets his from. Oh what the heck, another memo to self: steal Batman's socks."

The Joker threw back his head and let out a chilling laugh that echoed through the fairground. "HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Commissioner Gordon sat in his office, facing the young girl that the police had just brought in. Earlier that night the station had received a call from a waitress stating that a girl, no older than twelve, was wondering the streets of Gotham. The fact that she was carrying a sword seemed to spark the police's interest. Who was she? Where had she come from?

Jim had decided to send out detective Bullock to look for the child. It didn't take long before she was found and brought to the GCPD. Unfortunately the girl wasn't talking much; she just kept staring into space or at her precious sword.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Jim asked, trying his best to make conversation with the girl.

"Jessica," the girl replied quietly, not looking up from the desk.

'Well that's a start' the Commissioner thought to himself. "What's your surname?"

"Redman."

"Where are your parents, Jessica?"

Jessica didn't answer; instead she began nervously rolling her thumbs. The Commissioner decided that another tactic was in order. He reached over and carefully picked up Jessica's sword. As he predicted, his action made Jessica look up at him.

Jim smiled, "I like your sword. Did your parents give it to you?"

Jessica smiled back; she was beginning to like this guy. "My dad gave it to me for my tenth birthday."

"Lucky you; all my dad gave me was a pair of slippers and a box in the ear for throwing up on his couch," he winked at Jessica and she giggled a little.

"So where are your folks now?" The Commissioner put the sword back on his desk.

"My Mom died soon after I was born, and I lost my dad a few weeks ago. That's why I came here; I've got no other relatives which means I'll to go into care which I don't want to do. My friend used to live in a children's home and she said it was horrible."

"Well Jessica, from what you've told me it doesn't seem like you've got a choice. With no relatives to take care of you, there's nowhere else you can go."

"But there is!" Jessica insisted. "My Dad has a friend who lives here. I've met him once and he was a really nice guy. I could go and stay with him."

"Look, Miss Redman, you can't just go and stay with a person just like that; especially if they're not a relative. There are things that need to be checked out."

"But what am I suppose to do, sir? I don't want to go back into care." Tears had begun to form in Jessica's eyes, but she roughly wiped them away and avoided the Commissioner's soft yet stern gaze. It was as if she was ashamed of her tears.

He didn't know why, but Jim began to feel sorry for the girl. "Tell you what, while my colleagues check out this friend why don't you come and stay with me?"

Jessica looked up in surprise. "Really? Are you sure? 'Cus I don't want to intrude or anything."

"Of course I'm sure," Jim smiled. "You can stay in my daughter's old room."

"Wow, thanks Mr. Gordon"

"You're welcome. By the way, just how good _are_ you with that sword?"

Jessica grinned; she loved it when people wanted her to demonstrate her sword fighting talent. She picked up a pencil from the commissioner's desk and gave it to him. "Could you hold this up please?"

Jim did as he was told, though he had a strong suspicion he knew what was about to occur. Jessica lifted up her sword, and then made sure the Commissioner's arm was held out straight.

She swung the sword above her head. The Commissioner's eye's widened, "Are you sure-"

Too late; the sword whistled through the air, slicing the pencil a centimeter from where Jim's fingers were clutching it. Jim dropped the part of the pencil her was still holding and took a deep breath.

"See? I'm quite good aren't I?"

Jim had to laugh at the young girl's sureness. "Well you're better than me, I'll give you that."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Have you found out anymore about the sugar?" Robin asked as he descended the darkened steps into the Batcave.

"Not yet," his mentor replied, "but I'm guessing that the sugar is definitely something to do with the carnival he owns."

"Does he still use that carnival?" Robin asked skeptically. He took a drink from the soda he had just gotten from the kitchen, slurping as he drank. He soon stopped when Batman gave him a piercing glare.

"He uses it occasionally; I think it's a sort of retreat for him. There are people there who he can relate to, people like him."

"You mean the freaks that live there?"

The dark knight silently nodded, "they and the Joker have something in common."

"They're freaks?"

"They're both different than everyone else."

Just then Alfred came down the stairs, clutching an envelope. "Sir, this was just posted to you a few minutes ago. I must say I found it rather strange that you should be receiving male at almost midnight."

Batman took the envelope and studied it carefully. It was a typical A5 sized and the address had been typed out. The only difference was that this envelope was green not white. He turned the envelope over and wasn't surprised to find a question mark on the back, signifying who the letter (if that's what it was) was from.

"Riddler."

The Riddler was one of the only villains who knew Batman's secret identity. As such, he hadn't used it so far, but by the looks of things that had changed.

The dark knight scanned the envelopes contents to check if there weren't any hidden surprises before he opened it.

The enveloped contained a single piece of green paper. On it someone – probably the Riddler – had taken the time to cut out words from a newspaper and arrange them to make a riddle:

WE'RE TOO MANY TO COUNT SO DON'T EVEN TRY.

WE SEND CHILDREN TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.

ON OUR OWN WE'RE NOTHING BUT GRITTY.

BUT MIX US TOGETHER AND WE'VE BUILT THIS CITY.

WHAT ARE WE?

"That's easy: grains of sand. Too many to count, the sandman, and sand is one of the materials used in making cement. But what's that got to do with the Riddler?"

"I think I know, Robin," Batman replied. "Fifteen years ago there was a cement factory near the Gotham harbor. It was closed until recently when someone turned it into a gaming factory to market the creation of the new 'Sands of time' game."

"Wow, Sands of time! I love that game!" Robin exclaimed, "Though I'm still trying to get passed level five. I never knew dung beetles could be that hard to kill."

"Have you tried stepping on them?"

"……..That might work."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jim Gordon's house was a three bed roomed terrace with a reasonable sized garden out the back. Most of the flowers had been planted by his late wife, Sarah and Jim had been trying his best to keep them blooming every year in her memory.

"Wow!" Jessica exclaimed when they stepped into the Commissioner's small yet comfortable lounge. "You have a very nice place here, Mr. Gordon."

"Thankyou," Jim replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on a coat hook in the hallway. "Would you like something to drink, Jessica? We have apple juice or blackcurrant."

"Umm, blackcurrant please."

Jim went into the kitchen to make Jessica's drink, and while he was doing so Jessica took the time to explore the Commissioner's lounge. The three piece suite was typical leather and a pine coffee table was positioned the center of the room. On top of this was a framed photograph of the Commissioner along two women; one had long red hair and was sitting in a wheelchair. The other, older woman had light brown locks and her arm was draped around the Commissioner's shoulders.

When Jim came back in carrying the drinks, Jessica was still looking at the picture. "Who's that?" She asked, taking her drink off the tray.

The Commissioner gazed at the photo and smiled sadly, "that's my daughter and wife."

"Will they mind me staying here?"

"I don't think so. My daughter has her own place, and my wife's…my wife's dead."

"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that." Jessica was beginning to wish that she hadn't said anything. She could tell just by looking at the man that he missed his wife.

"It's ok," the Commissioner replied. "At least she died doing what she did best: saving a life."

Jessica decided that it would be best not to mention it anymore, so she sat on the sofa and quietly sipped her drink. The commissioner sat in the armchair opposite and raised the TV remote. "Let's see what's on TV tonight shall we?"

The television came on to a newscast. "Gotham's most notorious criminal, the Joker, is still at large. He is armed and considered extremely and mentally dangerous, do not approach him."

Jessica couldn't help but notice the anger that flashed across the Commissioner's face. "Have you ever met the Joker, Mr. Gordon?" She asked.

"Many times," the Commissioner answered sadly. "Many times."

"W-w-what's he like?" Jessica had never met the Joker-not that she _wanted_ to, but she had many things of his crimes from her father during her training.

"He's a monster," Jim replied simply. "A psychopath filled with darkness, and I hope you never meet him. He takes sick, humorous pleasure in the crimes he commits and-"

But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

"Now who on earth could that be," the Commissioner rose from his seat, "stay here Jessica."

Jessica nodded and remained where she was on the sofa. She listened as Jim walked into the hallway and opened the front door.

Suddenly there came a cry of horror from the Commissioner, followed by a loud _thud_.

"Mr. Gordon!" Jessica cried, leaping off the couch. She rushed into the hallway and skidded to a halt at the scene in front of her.

Jim Gordon was slumped in an unconscious heap on the floor. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead.

Standing over him was a tall man in a purple over coat and a wide brimmed hat that covered his face.

The figure gave a giggle that sent shivers down Jessica's spine. "Ooh and he's down for the count, what a knock out! Hahahahah!" He suddenly turned and looked directly at Jessica, who stood frozen to the spot in terror.

Standing in front her was the man who only a few minutes ago had been on the news.

The Joker.

"Well, well, well," the Joker cackled. "Who do we have here?"


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Jessica stared up in horror at the leering maniac stood in the doorway of Jim Gordon's house. Her legs went out from underneath her and she collapsed in a heap on the rug, doing her best to stay as far away as possible from the mad clown.

"Don't tell me you're his granddaughter?" The Joker cackled, looming over her. "Wow, Barbara's been getting it on! Tell me; was she still in the wheelchair when they got busy? I bet that got things rolling!"

'This guy's sick!" Jessica thought disgustedly before stammering, "I-I I'm not his g-g-g-granddaughter."

"Niece?"

"N-no."

"Cousin?"

The twelve-year-old numbly shook her head.

"Aunt? Goddaughter? Second cousin? Friend of a friend of the neighbor's dog twice removed?"

"N-n-no"

"Oh, tell me, the suspense is killing me... I think its killed Jimmy boy already!" The Joker motioned to the still unconscious form of the Commissioner.

"I'm not a relation; I'm just staying with him," Jessica explained. "Wh-wh-what do you want?"

The Joker grinned, baring his pearly white teeth. "Oh, the Commissioner and I have some unfinished business. I guess paralyzing his daughter and killing his wife didn't quite do it for him."

Jessica had managed to get to her feet and was backing into the lounge. "You're s-s-sick! What's Mr. Gordon ever done to you?"

"Hahahahah! Don't you see girly, that's the joke! Jimmy boys just a pawn in this mad, mad world!"

By now Jessica was standing in the middle of the lounge. She had never been so terrified in her entire life, not even when her father had died. Glancing desperately around her eyes fell on her sword that was leant against the sofa.

Dare she use it?

Yes; the circumstances called for it. She leapt forward and swiped the sword before pointing it at the clown prince of crime.

The Joker stared down the end of the sword and chuckled, though part of him was impressed that the girl was standing up to him. "Tsk, tsk, didn't your Mommy tell you not to play with sharp objects?"

He reached forward to relieve her of the sword, managing to grasp the blade.

More in desperation than fear, Jessica yanked the sword as hard as she could. The blade sliced through the clown prince's hand, staining his white glove with ruby blood.

The Joker hissed at the pain then merely glanced at his hand, before shoving it into the pocket of his purple jacket. "Now that wasn't very nice, was it? I can see I'm going to have to teach you some respect to your elders. Hmmm….too bad you won't have a chance to learn much now, heehee."

Jessica's eyes widened; she was sooo dead. However growing up with her father, he had taught her to stand up for herself. It was this characterization that had seen her through many bullying phases at school.

She swung the sword again, this time catching the Joker on the arm. The Joker hissed again before continuing towards her while reaching into the inside of his jacket.

Jessica was intelligent enough to know that whatever the Joker was going for wasn't going to be anything pleasant, so she sucked up all of her courage and swung the sword once more, this time aiming down low.

The clown prince went to leap out of the way, however the sword still caught him a glancing blow on his lower left leg. The Joker stumbled onto his knees, "this isn't funny kiddo."

'No kidding,' Jessica thought. She took the Joker's momentary stumble as a chance to retreat upstairs.

The Joker watched her and then smiled maliciously; he loved playing hide and seek. He got to his feet and limped up the stairs after her.

**……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… **

Meanwhile Batman and Robin had arrived at the games factory. All seemed to be quiet but the duo had learnt to expect the unexpected.

"Go around the back Robin, if you find anything call me," Batman ordered.

"Ok," the boy wonder replied and disappeared around the back of the factory.

Batman watched him go and then quietly opened the door to the factory. He found himself standing in a large room filled with boxes. He guessed that they were filled with games consoles and the like. In the center of the room he could make out the Riddler along with three henchmen.

Suddenly a dark shadow fell over him. He turned around just in time to see one of the Riddler's thugs aim a punch at him. The dark knight easily evaded the attack and then grabbed the criminal's shirt and threw him over his shoulders.

The thug crashed into a pile of boxes, knocking himself out. As he had anticipated the noise alerted the Riddler and his henchmen, who looked up in time to see Batman swing towards them. He kicked to of the henchmen in the gut, sending them flying across the room.

"Well, well, looks who's come to ruin my fun," the Riddler sneered.

"What's all this about Riddler," Batman demanded to know. Stealing computer games wasn't exactly the villain's M.O. He was more into cash and that sort of thing.

"I thought I'd see what all the fuss with this Sands of Time game is about," the intellectual Riddler replied. "Can't say I like it much though; the levels are way too simple and the riddles, bah! They're just jokes. Did you like the riddle I sent you? Not one of my best but hey, I wasn't really the one who needed it."

"What do you mean; you weren't really the one who needed it?" Who else would want the Riddler to send him a riddle? Unless…..

The quick mind of the Batman began ticking. There could only be one reason…

"This is a distraction isn't it?" The dark knight guessed, eyes narrowing. "Who put you up to it Riddler?"

"Now Batman, that's for you to decipher and for me to…."

Before he had finished his sentence the Riddler found himself pinned to the wall, as Batman lifted him off the floor.

"Enough games Riddler! Who told you to send the riddle? Someone's life could be in danger!" Batman demanded.

The intelligent criminal merely grinned. "I'll give you a hint, but you'll have to guess the rest."

"I don't have time for this."

"Very well dark knight, but riddle me this: How would you feel if someone were to be killed tonight because you hadn't listened to what I had to say?"

Batman knew the answer to that immediately. He already blamed himself for Jason Todd's death because he had made the wrong choice all those years ago.

"Give me the hint then, but I'm warning you, if I don't like the answer it'll be_ you_ who'll pay for it!"

"Very well, but before I give you my clue would you mind putting me down?"

Batman released his hold on the Riddler's green jacket and the villain began to recite his riddle:

"Though an enemy of Batman, he wears rarely a frown.

In fact there's no introduction needed for this psycho clown.

He leaves his victims giggling at the scene, all of a clatter.

But the crimes of this megalomaniac are no _laughing _matter."

The dark knight's eyes narrowed menacingly as he emitted a low growl. "Joker!"

**……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. **

Jessica found herself in the bathroom of the Commissioner. It was the only room that had a lock. Outside she could hear the Joker's footsteps.

"Come out; come out, wherever you are?" The Joker searched every nook and cranny. He lifted vase stood on the window still and peered inside it, "you in there girly?"

In the bathroom Jessica was desperately trying to think of a way to escape. Her eyes fell on the bathroom window. Getting to her feet, she made her way over and looked out at the ground below.

It was mostly grass, which was a good thing because it didn't seem she had any choice but to jump directly to the ground. It was either that or be killed by the Joker. Besides, if she successfully escaped she had a better chance of helping Mr. Gordon.

Suddenly she heard the doorknob rattle and the Joker's malicious yet cheery voice issued from outside. "Helloooo in there! Why don't you come on out? I want a go at hiding!"

Damn it! Looks like the window it was.

Jessica began unlocking the window. Unfortunately the locks were stiff and it was taking some time.

Suddenly she heard the Joker's voice again. "Look kiddo, this is fun and all, but I have stuff I need to do Jimmy boy, so why don't I just leave you my card, ok?"

A small joker card was slid under the bathroom door, and as Jessica began to wonder what the Joker was up to, it began emitting a purple gas.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In desperation Jessica heaved on the window with as much strength as she could manage. Eventually with a groan the window opened and Jessica climbed out, closing the window behind her. She stood flatly against the wall of the house, trying to keep her balance. She looked down and saw a branch of an old elm tree sticking out.

Gathering up all of her courage Jessica leapt towards the branch, managing to grasp it as she flew towards the ground. Taking a deep relieved breath, she began to carefully climb down to the ground.

Once her feet were on solid ground Jessica looked around. The garden was quite big and covered in flowers; it was obvious that Mr. Gordon took pride in his garden.

Mr. Gordon; what had happened to him? Was he still in the house? Jessica ran towards the backdoor and tried to open it. Finding it locked she peered through the window. She couldn't see any sign of the Commissioner or the Joker, which left her with the only answer she could think of: the Joker had kidnapped Mr. Gordon.

Sliding to the ground and leaning against the wall of the house, Jessica began to think of what she should do. She didn't know whether the Commissioner was still alive or not but considering that the Joker had taken him gave her a good bet that he was alive; if he were dead then that madman probably would have left him.

Jessica was positive about one thing: she had to rescue the Commissioner no matter what. But how? She began to concentrate. It was obvious that the Joker believed she was dead and it would be best to keep it that way, so how was she going to rescue Mr. Gordon without the Joker realizing who she was?

After several minutes of consideration a slight smile curved her lips; she knew what she needed to do.

Glancing down at her watch she saw that it was almost one-o-clock, she couldn't do anything tonight except ring the police, but that would also mean that she would be alone again and would probably be taken into care which she didn't want.

She had to ring them anonymously. Exiting the backyard she ran to find a phone box.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Back in the batcave, Batman once again found himself in front of the computer. This time Robin had joined them and they were trying to find out what evil scheme the Joker was trying to pull this time. The only clue they had was that the Riddler-after Batman had knocked him about a bit-had told him that the Joker was planning to do something with the Commissioner but he didn't know what.

After not having much luck Batman turned to Robin. "We're going to go to the Commissioner's house. There might be something there that can help us."

"Fine with me," Robin replied, "let's go." He raced toward the Batmobile with Batman close behind him. Leaping into the vehicle Batman started the engine and they raced out of the cave's secret entrance and towards Gotham city.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

At the GCPD Detective Bullock had just received an anonymous phone call stating that the Commissioner had been kidnapped by the Joker.

"Montoya, Smith, come with me," he ordered. "The Commissioner's been kidnapped!"

The three raced outside to the car park and leapt into their cars. With sirens wailing they raced toward Jim Gordon's house.

When they got there Bullock wasn't surprised but slightly irritated to find the dark knight and Robin already there.

"Hey, you can't touch the evidence!" Bullock yelled at Batman as he entered the house.

As usual Batman ignored him and carried on searching the house. He arrowed his eyes when he saw the spots of blood on the carpet and leading out into the hallway. He followed them and saw the spots of blood leading up the stairs.

He ascended the stairs and found himself in Jim's bathroom where Robin was already searching. He turned to Batman and held up a monitor.

"I've picked up traces of the Joker's laughing gas in here," he explained. "It's not anywhere else. Do you think the Commissioner tried to hide in here and was…?"

"No," Batman interrupted him. "I believe the Commissioner was knocked out in the hallway, probably as soon as he had opened the door. There's a small pool of blood on the hallway floor, and a trail of blood leading from the lounge into the hall and up the stairs, yet there's no evidence of blood leading from the hall into the lounge."

"So whose blood is it?"

"It's probably the Joker's," Batman replied. "He probably tried to defend himself."

"It may not be the Joker's blood," a voice came from behind them. They both turned and found officer Montoya standing about halfway up the stairs.

"What do you mean?" Batman wanted to know.

"Earlier tonight we received a call from a waitress saying that a young girl was wondering the streets alone. The Commissioner agreed that she could stay with him until they could find somewhere suitable for her to stay or something."

"What's this girl like?" Batman asked.

"Brown hair, approximately shoulder length; green eyes; she was about twelve to thirteen years old."

Batman narrowed his eyes as he stared down at the specks of blood. A child; she was just a child. If the Joker had done_ anything_ to hurt the girl he was _not _going to be held responsible for his actions; too many children had already been hurt or killed because of the psycho.

"She was also carrying a sword," Montoya continued.

"A sword?" Robin asked. He turned to Batman, "do you think that might explain the blood?"

"For the girl's sake_ and _the Joker's I hope not," Batman replied. "Come on Robin, we're going back to the cave to see if we can get an analysis from this blood." He shot his grapple out of the window and swung out.

"Right behind you," Robin shouted, swinging out of the window as well. As he swung through the city, Robin glanced around quickly at the skyscrapers and wondered if one of them held the kidnapped Commissioner.

Where was Jim Gordon?

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jim Gordon groaned slightly as his eyes slowly opened. At first all he could see was…..nothing; it was way too dark, but after blinking a few times he just-but only just-make out his hands in front of his face.

Discovering that he was flat on his back he went to sit up.

_THUD, _he whacked his on the roof of something. Groaning again he lifted his arm to rub the tender area. As he did so his elbow knocked against the wall. Jim began to try and feel where he was. He slid his hands down the sides and deduced that they were made of wood. Strangely though whatever he was laying on was extremely soft- comfortable even.

It was obvious he was trapped in some kind of box, but what sort? What kind of box had a soft inner base? The Commissioner wracked his brain, and suddenly his eyes widened in terror as a horrible realization struck him.

A coffin; he was trapped in a coffin!


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was eight – o – clock the next morning as Jessica walked through the crowded streets of Gotham. Everywhere she looked crowds of people were on their way to work, dressed in smart business suits or sitting inside cafés devouring a quick breakfast before the day really began.

However the daily routine of the city's occupants wasn't the most important thing on Jessica's mind right now. What was was how she was going to rescue the Commissioner from the Joker.

As she walked she went over the first part of her plan. It was simple: she didn't want the Joker to realize that she was still living and breathing, therefore she needed a disguise; she needed a costume.

The only problem was that she didn't have any money to buy one. Jessica didn't like to steal, but the Commissioner's life depended on it. So Jessica would go into the costume shop take costume and then attempt to find the Commissioner.

It was as simple as that. Wasn't it?

The costume shop was on the corner of 42nd street. It had only just opened and as a result there were no customers at that particular time. Jessica considered this a positive thing on her part, since it meant there wouldn't be many witnesses for the crime

Opening up the door, she found herself surrounded by strange and colorful costumes. Clowns, skeletons, fairies, every type of costume you could imagine were hanging on these metal railings. But what Jessica wanted was something dark, something to camouflage her in the blackness of the night.

It didn't take long for her to discover what she was searching for: a jet black one-piece costume which zipped up at the back. It was the sort of thing a gymnast would wear.

The next article Jessica searched for was a cape. She had decided on the way to the store that she didn't want one that was too long; it would be no good if she kept tripping up.

The first cape she laid her hands was just that- too big. It looked more like a duvet than a cape. The second one wasn't dark enough, but the third was just right and she grabbed it off the hook.

'Now what else do I need?' Jessica thought to herself, looking around the store. In the far corner she spotted another article that would be of use to her: a pair of black boots. They were leather and would come up to the knees. They also had a hard heel; perfect for when it came to kicking the crap out of opponents.

The final things she picked up were a belt which held several compartments, and a holder for her sword. She decided she would later paint her sword black to match her attire.

"Excuse me sir," she approached the cash desk. "Would it be possible to try this stuff on?"

The cashier was a man in his mid-fifties with grey hair and a bushy mustache. His eyes were a dark brown, but twinkled friendly. Jessica felt bad that she was about to rob this man, but another man's life depended on it.

"Certainly," the cashier replied. "The changing rooms are just down that corridor there." He pointed to the far corner of the store, where an entrance lead into the back.

"Thanks," Jessica made her way to the back of the store. Time for the second part of her plan. She would feign trying on the costume, but then make her way out of a back window. She knew there was an alleyway behind the store and there must have to be somewhere to hide back there.

The changing rooms were simple cubicles with curtains pulled across. Jessica walked into the closest one to the window and sat on a wooden stool that was occupying the corner.

She quickly made a mental list of the stuff she had:

Costume? Check.

Cape? Check.

Boots? Check.

Belt? Check

Sword holder? Check.

Jessica smiled to herself; she was ready to go.

She quietly made her way out of the changing rooms and edged her way toward the window, careful not to attract too much attention that would bring the store owner coming.

The window definitely wasn't the biggest that Jessica had ever seen, but that didn't matter; she was quite a slim girl and so squeezing through this would be simple.

The first problem with climbing out of the window was that it was too high for her to simply jump out of. However that little dilemma was easily solved thanks to the stool in the corner.

She dragged the stool over below the window and climbed on top. She could now see out of the window, into a side alley. There was no one about, thank God. It might have looked a little suspicious if a young girl was spotted climbing out of a shop window.

Reaching up, she undid the latch the window's latch and…

"Are you alright in there?" The store owner's voice almost made Jessica fall off her stool.

"I'm fine," she called back, praying that he wouldn't see or hear what she was doing.

Luckily her answer seemed to satisfy the man as he made no reply.

Giving a sigh of relief, Jessica lifted the window up. She then took her equipment and threw it out the window.

There was no going back now, and so Jessica heaved herself out of the window. She reminded herself that this was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that she had had to climb out of a window; only last time she was escaping from a mad man.

The sudden thought of the Joker and what he could be doing to the Commissioner gave Jessica the final bit of determination she needed, and washed away any doubts she had about what she was doing.

Landing swiftly in the alleyway, Jessica took a quick look around. At one end of the alley were the busy streets. People were walking back and forth, but none had thought to look down the alley towards her.

At the other end was the rear of the costume store, which lead to Gotham's back streets. Jessica thought that this would be the easiest and safest place to go, so without a backward glance she took off that way.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

9.00pm

"Where are we going?" Robin asked as he and Batman climbed into the Batmobile.

"I want you to patrol the city and see if you can find that young girl. I'm going to check Joker's old hideout. There might be something there that will give us a clue as to where he is, and what he's got planned."

"Ok" was the simple reply, and the Batmobile sped out of the cave and towards the city.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

In an abandoned garage, Jessica had dressed up in her costume. It was a perfect fit, thank God. It would have been a nightmare if she had to go back to the costume shop to change it, after she stolen it.

She attached the sword's holder to her belt, and slipped the sword in to keep it safe. She was beginning to get slightly excited over the mission ahead of her; at last she was closer to rescuing the Commissioner.

Suddenly Jessica stopped short as she realized she didn't even know where the Commissioner was. Where should she start looking?

There was only one person in Gotham who could possibly know the answer to that:

Batman.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Wakey, wakey Commish!" Jim Gordon's eye's widened as he heard the dreaded voice of Gotham's clown prince. He lifted his head slightly, and noticed a small screen slightly off to his right. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that it showed the Joker's grinning face it was hard to miss.

"I expect you're wondering why you're here, aren't you?" the Joker cackled in insane delight. "Well…I'm not gonna tell ya! It's like the blunt pencil. Did you hear about the blunt pencil?"

A groan was all the Commissioner could manage as a response.

"Oh don't worry…..You won't get the point! HAHAHAHAH!" He threw his head back and let out his deranged laugh, but stopped when he didn't get the response he wanted from his one man audience. "Oh you're such a party-pooper!"

"What do you want Joker?"

"What do I want? I want what everyone wants! I want people to understand me; I want a chocolate sundae; though I might get it Friday. I don't think I can wait 'til Sunday to get it; I want Batsy's head on a platter; I want a herd of white elephants to mow my lawn; and most of all I want a chicken that lays golden eggs."

"You have a serious problem Joker. Let me go!"

The Joker ignored the demand, and instead he pulled his lips down into an uncharacteristic frown. "I do have a problem, I admit that.' And almost as quickly as it had come, his frown disappeared.

The Commissioner groaned even louder as the Joker started……Singing. He squeezed his eyes shut and his mind flashed back to the last time he had heard the Joker sing. That was one the Joker had kidnapped him and tried to drive him insane after shooting Barbara. It was a time in his life he wished he could forget.

"I, uh, still have problem... if it's ok with them... over there.  
Them... the dark carnival in general... it's the whole stabbin' thing again,  
Its... see iuh..."

…I stab people, like everyday folks. Skinny people, any people, i chop out they throats. My stabbin's are ninja-like with the quickness (hey). By the time you feel it, i'm like three blocks away. By the time you feel it, i'm like three blocks away. I stabbed the newspaper guy and took his little truck. Now I stab people and drive away, I'm like put-put-put-put-put. I do shows and stab people at the same time, what of it?"

"What do you want Joker?" Gordon couldn't stand the singing anymore.

"Aww, don't you like my singing?"

"No."

"Everyone's so judgmental."

"What do you want?" Jim repeated for the third time. "Why have you brought me here?" The Commissioner was doing his best to stay calm, but at the hands of this maniac nothing was to be expected.

"You're my first guest on my new reality TV show! I'm calling it 'Burial Live!' I was thinking of calling it 'Six feet under,' but then those dastardly people at HBO will probably try and sue me for copyrighting."

"What are…what are you talking about?" Jim asked. He was beginning to get disorientated, and was starting to get hot and sweaty.

"Haven't you ever heard of Six feet under? It's only the greatest sitcom on the planet! The story of Fisher family and their comedic mishaps in their family funeral home."

"I…I meant what are you talking about, 'Burial Live?'

"Oh that," the Joker giggled. "Basically I take an unsuspecting idiot…..that's you, then I bury them alive until they suffocate! And it's all going to be viewed live by millions of people! Look out Big Brother there's a new show in town!"

"You're insane!"

"I wish people would stop using that against me. I'm on medication, what more do you want? It's not my fault it isn't working. Oh and by the way, I loved that young lady you were looking after; she was very courageous. Didn't have much of a sense of humor though, but I soon fix that! Heehee!"

Gordon went to sit up in anger but only succeeded in banging his head again. "What have you done to her you bastard!"

"Tsk tsk Commissioner, I hope they'll be none of that foul language when we air; they'll be kids watching!"

"What have you done to her!" The Commissioner snarled.

"I merely gave her a permanent outlook on life, and I must say she was probably much happier with it."

He leaned in closer, so that his white face filled the entire screen.

"And when I'm finished, you'll be happier too. I guarantee it!"

_AN: Sorry this chapter took so long but I couldn't decide where to go with it. Fear not for now like the Terminator: "I'll be back."  
_


End file.
